


Marching in Circles

by OrangeBlossoms



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeBlossoms/pseuds/OrangeBlossoms
Summary: Maribelle ruminates during a day's travel.





	Marching in Circles

At first, the rain was easy to ignore, her decorative parasol handily keeping her dry as she walked along the road. Her horse followed complacently behind her, as Lissa slumped forward slightly on its back wearing a hooded cloak Maribelle had secured from a mage. Her sweet companion had been injured and while currently out of danger, it had been a physically draining experience. She had insisted Lissa take her steed and that she would walk. They had pushed forward rather aggressively lately and she was certain her horse couldn’t handle two riders at the moment. Lissa’s needs were paramount. 

Other offers from fellow units were bitten back as she glared at them disdainfully. It had been their responsibility to keep her safe. There was no sense in keeping two healers in close proximity to each other on the field, so she carelessly hadn’t been there to protect her dearest friend. The second she heard what had happened, she tore over the battlefield, pulled Lissa further out of harm’s way and got to work with her staff. 

They had engaged in such a lovely heart-to-heart after the battle before this latest clash. She had without a pause declared she would lay down her life for her. All very platonically, of course. She would make herself a loyal retainer, a fierce protector. If noble standing got in the way of that simple goal, propriety be damned in this war. Naturally, as long as it wasn't raining and she wasn't slogging through mud like a village swineherd, she would still maintain all appearances of the utmost decorum. She might be racing through battlegrounds under the direct beams of a noonday sun or wading through swamps of unknown composition, but she and her mount would do so _gracefully_.

Today though, the skies more than wept. A downpour hit them several hours into the trek to their next destination, the unremarkable drizzle suddenly amplified into a deluge. It only lasted a brief period, but it had done its worst to not only her riding gear, but the road as well. To add insult to injury, while the rain had slowed it continued well beyond its welcome. She had fussed over Lissa briefly, but without a place to stop, her inability to improve their current situation only caused them both to waste much needed energy. She had removed a sodden glove and briefly held onto her hand before returning to her spot in the caravan. 

She felt as bitter as an improperly brewed tea. A warm cup of something aromatic would be lovely at the moment. They would set up camp and she would make herself presentable and she would expertly pour them both a serving. She would put on a fresh set of gloves and feel the heat transfer to her delightfully dry hands. Realistically it wouldn't turn out that way, but it was a nice distraction.

She was fully aware this one-sided obsession was foolish in many ways. Foolish and unwarranted and forever to be unrequited. It was quite the tragedy. Something she might have read about in a novel when she had the leisure time for such things, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief at the the revelation of the hero or heroine’s anguish. Now the situation just made her sullen, or perhaps it was the rain and the mud filling her boots, toes squelching unpleasantly. She prayed to all that was good and decent in the world that they would be halting soon. She briefly considered taking up issue with someone who could actually make that decision, but ruefully conceded to having tread on a number of feet that day already. The cloak would keep darling Lissa warm and dry and her mount would take care of the rest. 

Not wanting Lissa to see her shoulders sag, she willed herself into proper posture, straight backed and hands delicately grasping the wind-bent parasol. Something akin to determination boiled inside of her as she continued to place one foot in front of the other. It must be the rain. Though Lissa was a far more tender person than herself, if she could endure this day’s expedition with a smile, weary as it had been, Maribelle would be well-served in doing the same. 

She would smile despite the chill settling into her bones. She would hold her head high despite the weight of her water-laden ringlets, her attempt at wringing out her locks only semi-successful. Her once lovingly maintained boots were now filled with runny sediment and marshy water, but she would _not_ complain. No longer to herself and certainly not to Lissa because that was the trick to it all. The magic that made them function. Lissa was an endless source of warmth and she would do her best to reflect that consideration back tenfold. 

There was a dreadful crawling sensation in the back of her mind cautioning her that she would be having a similar conversation with herself again soon enough, making identical unattainable promises. Her smile soured yet she still preserved it. While that truth might be inevitable, she would endure it nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> No worries. They get together in the end and it's all very fluffy and sweet. I just wanted to try writing these two. Or mostly Maribelle, I suppose. She's got that harshly judgmental, fiercely loyal thing going on and I wanted to give it a shot.


End file.
